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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23800510">The Space Between Sparks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlastingecstasy/pseuds/everlastingecstasy'>everlastingecstasy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Attempt at Humor, Drama &amp; Romance, M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seriously I try to be a little funny, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:40:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23800510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlastingecstasy/pseuds/everlastingecstasy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie is awarded an international firefighter honor due to his rescue of the boy in the well. The entire team is ecstatic to find out they are all invited to the out-of-state ceremony. Among all of the good news, Buck finds himself questioning his mental-health after the well accident. When Eddie finds out Buck's initial reaction to the night he was trapped, Buck avoids talking with him about it, until... well... guess you’ll see. :) </p><p>Buck/Eddie<br/>TW: Mental health will be discussed in future chapters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Athena Grant/Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley &amp; Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)/Reader, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson/Karen Wilson, Maddie Buckley &amp; Howie "Chimney" Han, Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You won <em>another</em> award? What the hell is in your water?” Buck gawked over Eddie’s shoulder as he peered at the letter in his hand. Eddie attempted to shush Buck, who slyly grabbed the letter out of his hands. Scanning the cursive clumsily, Buck ran his fingers eagerly over the maroon raised-seal, attempting to read more. As if on cue, a stern look and ‘ahem’ from Bobby. Buck returned the look, and the letter, with a surrendering side-smile, lips pouting slightly as he did so. Eddie cleared his throat to speak, his clear voice bounced off of the floors and through the space between the fire-trucks.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>On behalf of the International Firefighting Honor Awards, we declare on this April 30th, 2020, that Edmundo Diaz—“ </em>Buck fails to cover a snicker at Eddie’s full name. He flails slightly to the right. “Oww-ch.” An elbow in his rib from Hen and a roll of the eyes from Eddie. “Are you finished?” Bobby spoke in the father-like tone that Buck knew all too well. Buck made eye contact with his shoes sheepishly. He murmured a small yes, and crossed his arms in defeat. Eddie began again, emphasizing where Buck cut him off.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>"On behalf of the International Firefighting Honor Awards, we declare on this April 30th, 2020 that </em><b><em>Edmundo Diaz </em></b><em>will be awarded with the Golden Helmet Award for his ultimate bravery in Los Angeles, California on April 20th, 2020…” </em>Eddie paused as the sudden<em> c</em>heers and “way-to-go’s” from the team erupted around him. Bobby clapped Eddie on the back, and beamed as he nudged him to continue the letter. Eddie let out a breath and continued. “<em>The Golden Helmet Award is the pinnacle of the International Firefighting Honor Committee. Only 3 firefighters internationally receive this award per year…” </em>Eddie scanned the next part carefully as his voice seemed to fade out. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Buck’s eyes began to bloom with concern. “Well… what else? What’s next?” Buck looked to Eddie, who was smiling slightly as he read, silently mouthing the words. Eddie met Bobby's eyes briefly, as he held the letter out to him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Cautiously, Bobby took the letter. He read silently, as his smile reached the corner of his eyes. Everyone else looked around with confusion. Bobby’s booming voice continued to read aloud.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Due to the high caliber of the Golden Helmet Award, we are pleased to invite you and the rest of your “day-of” active team to the ceremony. This will be held June 1st, 2020 at the Chicago Athletic Association Hotel in Chicago, Illinois. You will also be able to bring a plus one. Lodging and three night’s dinner will be all covered on behalf of the International Firefighting Honor Committee. Congratulations, and we hope to see you and your team there.” </em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was silent for a moment, before everything sunk in. Like a match to a wick, the firehouse exploded into cheers. Hen and Chimney, were high-fiving one another. Buck jumped up in the air as if he had stepped on hot coals. His arms were raised and high-fiving Hen and Chimney. Buck turned to face Eddie, his smile quickly fell as he saw Eddie's somber and forced smile. Buck’s eyebrows fell inward as he motioned Eddie over to the side of a fire-truck, slightly blocking them from view.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Hey— why aren’t you more excited about this? I’m sure you’ll be able to bring more than just one person. What else does the letter say?” Buck’s baby-blue eyes smiled as they met Eddie’s. Eddie looked away and crumpled the letter to Buck’s chest. He started walking to the locker-room area, causing the roaring cheers to quickly simmer. Bobby met Buck’s eyes, to which Buck held up his pointer finger, jogging to catch up to Eddie. He leaned against the doorframe and waited.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Eddie fumbled with his keys and radio as he shifted through his belongings in his locker. He turned to face Buck, wearing a look of disbelief.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “It’s not that I’m not excited Buck… but why me—” he points outside the glass-window to the rest of the team. “Why not you Buck—“ Eddie points to Buck. “With all of the shit you went through, how could you not get one? Why not Cap? Why not anyone else in the 118?” Eddie scoffed and threw his radio back in the locker with a slam. He fell on the bench, sighing as he ran his hands through his hair.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Buck watched Eddie for a moment. He pursed his lips slightly, carefully choosing his words. He sauntered over to Eddie and sat on the wooden bench, the letter folded in his hands.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Do you really think you’re not deserving of <b>this </b>Eddie—” Buck rattles the letter in the air as he speaks. “Do you remember what happened that night? Because from where I’m standing, it sure seems to me like you deserve this.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Eddie looked up to Buck and let out a breathy laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You’re technically sitting, so…” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Buck shoved him slightly with a laugh and held his gaze.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I get it… that night was…” Buck trailed off for a moment, his eyes and mind wandered as he stared ahead to the lockers. Eddie tilted his head to the side as glanced at Buck’s spacey look. Buck shook his head as if snapping himself out of the trance. He held the letter out to Eddie.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Look, if anyone deserves this… It’s you Eddie. Christopher will be so proud of you… I know I—“</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A knock on the glass door made them both jump slightly. Chimney popped his head in. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Are you two finished with your makeshift rom-com in here? Cap wants to order some take-out to celebrate.” Buck and Eddie exchanged a look of confusion, Chimney backed out of the doorway and smirked, popping his bubblegum as he walked back towards the team.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Rom-com?” Buck mouthed to Eddie with a shake of the head as they both headed back towards the team. They had some planning to do.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bedtime, Baseball, and Buck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It starts slowly. First you find yourself spacing out... then comes the forgetfulness. It's a a funny thing. First it hits you in a small way, then comes the blame game. Buck deals with his own mental health struggles, while aiming to stay positive for Christopher and Eddie... and the 118... and himself. He has to be fine, Eddie's award ceremony is coming up. He has to be fine, his life is great. He has to be fine doesn't he?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Buck sat idly at his desk, starring at the illuminated <em>Google </em>search suggestions of “<em>Things to do in Chicago.”</em> He had scanned articles on “<em>The Bean” </em>and eventually fell down the rabbit-hole on “<em>Great Chicago Fire.” </em>He shut his laptop and drummed his fingertips. Buck opened the drawer of the desk. As he did so, it popped off its hinges slightly. The sound of wood scraping echoed through the empty apartment. <em>That’s what I get for getting this on OfferUp…</em> Buck sighed and shuffled through the drawer. Scattered bills and old-lawsuit papers littered the space, he really needed to get rid of those. Finally, he pulled out a black and white composition notebook. He shuffled through the top drawer, grasping various pens and pencils. He threw them onto the desk. They rolled and rocked until they all scattered in several directions. Buck’s eyes focused in on a black ball-point pen, he grasped it tightly, and felt his eyes stuck to a spot on the desk. His fingers began to whiten. Buck let out a gasp of air. <em>Breathe. </em>He closed his eyes and breathed in, and out… in and out. He began writing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>May 9th, 2020.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>10:06pm</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Well, I guess today’s the day that I actually write in this thing. The flashbacks are coming and going in waves. Some days I feel like I’m fine, and some days I just stare at jack-shit on a desk. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Buck paused and furrowed his brows for a minute. He held the pen above the paper, hesitating for a few more seconds before continuing;</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1"> <em>I didn’t really expect to use this, but Carla told me to write when something was fucking with my mind, and well—fuckery has commenced.</em> <em>Is</em></span> <span class="s1"><em> it normal for me to have such vivid flashbacks to the night of the well accident? I’ve had so much shit happen to me… and the fact that this is what I keep going back to… why? I feel like I’m completely separate from everyone, surrounded constantly with people, but no one’s really listening? I know it all seems okay. But what if…I don’t really know, what if it’s in my head or—</em> </span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Buck’s cellphone lit up with a quick couple of dings. He paused and glanced with a smirk as he answered a ‘FaceTime’ request from Christopher. He heard quiet, muted giggles on the other line.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi-ii-iii Buck.” Christopher extended his greeting in the not-so-nonchalant way that only Christopher could. Buck laughed a little bit, as he seemed to be hiding under the covers, the only light illuminating was the baby-blue nightlight shining through the film of blankets. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi-ii-iii Christopher,” Buck echoed back. He figured he would play along for a few minutes before Eddie came in and took his phone for the night. After the tsunami, Eddie gave him an old iPhone for emergencies… or to call Buck. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you at a desk Buck? It’s bedtime.” Christopher laughed at Buck, though he did have a point.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well—I should ask you the same thing mister! Why aren’t you asleep yet? You have school early tomorrow.” Buck felt a twang of fatherly instinct only Christopher could unleash. Christopher’s smile wavered for a minute as he pressed his finger to his mouth to ‘shush’ Buck.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Dad’s not home, Carla’s asleep…I think.” He said it with a bit of apprehension. Buck felt his posture straighten as he twisted his head in confusion. Eddie always made it a priority to be home on time to tuck Chris in, unless he had a shift… which he obviously didn’t. </span> <span class="s1">Buck felt himself fall into a flashback. All he could see in his head was the tower falling. So many sparks. So much dirt underneath Buck’s fingernails… so much blurriness, so much darkness about that night. Buck felt himself lurching forward, nauseous. Christopher’s lilts and calls of “Buuuuccckkkk,” woke him from his lull. Buck quickly regained his composure.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey bud,” Buck swallowed before continuing. “Your Dad might not be home yet, but I know you want to do good in school tomorrow, right?” Buck’s eyes softened as he looked at Christopher through the phone screen. Christopher let out a breathy sigh, which seemed to be an agreement.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ohh-kay Buck, you’re right. I want to do good. I promise I’ll try hard.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Buck’s heart tugged a bit. He didn’t want to admit how much he cared about Christopher, because he never wanted to lose him. Buck swallowed hard as he said his goodbyes. He didn’t need to think about that tonight. </span> <span class="s1">As he set his phone back onto the desk, he shuffled away the composition notebook and crossed his arms, wondering what Eddie could possibly be doing. He drummed his fingers again, and picked up the phone, typing in a message to Hen.</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Buck: Can I ask you a question Hen? Sorry that it’s late, I know you’re probably sleeping or something.<br/></em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Hen: Wellllll, considering you texted me on your only night off, I’d assume it’s you who should be busy, not me. But what’s up?<br/></em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Buck: Do you think Eddie would be out this late the night before a shift? I mean—I know you probably have no idea, but I’m a little concerned he’s not home with Christopher. Idk I probably sound annoying.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hen typed for a few moments, then stopped. Buck shifted his weight on the chair as he watched the text bubbles appear, then disappear, for a couple of moments. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Hen: I’m gonna need a bit more context bud.. I mean, Eddie’s been a bit off still with everything that happened. But do you think something is wrong?<br/></em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Buck: Uh ok—well, Eddie mentioned a school-teacher from Christopher’s school... I dunno. Maybe he’s out with her… I mean. Idk I doubt it. Right?</em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Buck: Or idk, he could be getting groceries too. Most people get groceries at night right? Especially in our line of work. Do you think he’s okay? </em> </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Buck’s fingers typed a few more responses until his blue messages overpowered the white. Hen must’ve been slightly overwhelmed.<em><br/></em></span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Hen: Has anyone ever told you that you overthink shit? If not, I’m telling you, you overthink shit.<br/></em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Buck: Can you just answer the question???<br/></em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Hen: Okay, well—look, I think the best person to ask about this is Eddie. I know you’re concerned about Christopher, but Eddie is his father. He will do what’s best for him.Whether you’ll be involved in any decisions, will be based on Eddie. So… you better buckle up and figure that shit out. Ha, get it? BUCK-le up. Shit, I’m laughing over here, gonna wake up Kenny. G2G, night Buck.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Buck laughed a little at Hen’s response, and texted her a thank you. He re-read it again, mouthing the words as he tried to solve the puzzle. Buck let out a frustrated groan and threw his phone on the couch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So, he slept, without getting any sleep at all.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">May 10th, 2020.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">4:50pm</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Buck drew his eyebrows inward, giving his living room décor a perplexing look. He made eye contact with the faux, dark brown leather recliner he had just purchased. His fingers drew across his chin, passing over the light stubble he had yet to shave off. Buck grunted a bit and shook his head. He pushed the recliner to the left. <em>No, that’s not the right spot. </em>He pushed the chair forward a bit. <em>No, that doesn’t work either. </em>Buck felt himself clench as he pushed the recliner just an inch more to the right. The chair squeaked and whistled across the floor, as he did. This caused Buck to shiver and cringe a bit. <em>God, I hate that noise. Nails on a damn chalkboard. </em>He carefully eyed the recliner’s placement. <em>Yes, okay. That works…that works.</em> Buck wiped off the armrest with his palm and plopped right down into the chair. He almost knocked over the chair with the force of his bodyweight as he cackled to himself. After he had steadied the chair,he shut his eyes, satisfied with his work.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hard knock at the front door caused Buck to roll his eyes and release an internal grumble from his throat. As he hastily got up from the chair, he walked over, speaking in pace with his footsteps.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Eddie, I told you yesterday, you don’t have to knock wh—” He stopped talking as he was face-to-face with not Eddie, but Chimney and Bobby. Chim looked amused for some reason, covering his face as if he had laughed about something. Bobby nudged him a bit. Buck’s mouth opened,<br/><br/>“Ouuhh—uh, what are you doing here?”<br/><br/>Bobby was wearing a blue <em>Cubs </em>hat, holding up a dish with of layered three-cheese dip, while Chim was decked out in <em>Dodgers</em> gear, holding up a bag of tortilla chips. Leave it to Buck to forget about plans he made. <em>Oh shit, I invited them over to watch the Dodgers vs. Cubs game. Eddie said he’d come though. How did I space out about that?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chim turned around to look down the hallway, even looking under Buck’s tattered ‘welcome home’ rug before pointing to himself and Bobby.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, waai-aait, were you expecting someone else? Or did you just forget about our plans?” Chim’s voice lilted into a high pitched tone as Bobby knocked into his side a bit. Bobby also was shaking his head and stifling a laugh. Buck tilted his head to the side and gave Chim a questionable look as he pushed open the door with his arm, and let Bobby walk through. He saw him put his three-cheese dip on the kitchen island, and grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. Chim had one foot in the doorway before Buck stopped him with his other hand. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was there a reason you were looking under my rug?” He crossed his arms but laughed a little. Chim merely shrugged and leaned inward to whisper to Buck. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, just seeing if that’s where you kept the key for Eddie, or if he really does have his own set.” Chim smirked at Buck, while patting his shoulder as he walked over to Bobby, setting his tortilla chips down with a plastic crinkle.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Between the three of them, Buck, Chim, and Bobby had gotten more tortilla chip crumbles in Buck’s couch (and new recliner) than in their mouths. Chim had been barking at the tv set over a foul ball, when a rapping on the door caused Buck to <em>thankfully </em>get up. Chimney was about to throw a tortilla chip at the TV when Buck answered with a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Buck, did I miss much of the action?” Eddie said as he exchanged a quick side-smile with Buck, who gestured with his head to Chimney and Bobby. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh-h-h, take a look for yourself.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eddie looked passed Buck to Chim and Bobby, who’s eyes were glued to the television screen, body’s jumping and ebbing with every pitch. Buck brought his eyebrows inward as he looked to the recliner, which had become more filled with cheese-dip and tortilla chips by the second. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Leaning against the doorframe, Buck turned back to Eddie, who was standing with a paper bag from <em>Wings &amp; Things</em>. A strong scent of buffalo, barbecue, and chicken wafted into the apartment. He looked down the hall from Eddie, confused as to where Christopher was. Before Buck spoke, Eddie let out a laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Before you ask, he’s with his friend from school,” He paused and spoke again, “He wanted to come over to “hang out with the guys” Eddie spoke with air quotes, “… but I told him he should go to his friends’ sleepover instead.” Eddie contorted his face a little, like he was thinking about something painful, before he looked away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Buck motioned Eddie to step out of the apartment. Eddie’s eyebrows raised in confusion, but he obliged, and backed out of the doorway. He stood to the side as Buck shut the door behind them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Buck, if it’s about me being late, traffic was nuts getting to your place with the game. I had to drop Christopher off before—” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Were you at the fight club last night?” Buck felt the words tumble out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about them. Eddie’s eyebrows went inward, his mouth forming a small incredulous smile. Eddie shifted the bag to his other hand. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uhh what— no? I was meeting a representative of the <em>IFHC* </em>to discuss details of the event.” Eddie started to laugh without really understanding what was even happening. Buck felt himself flush, but for what reason? He put his hand to his head in a steeple position.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry I just… uhh,” <em>Think of something you dipshit. “</em>Ahh, I shouldn’t rat him out… but Christopher called me last night. He told me you weren’t home to tuck him in.” Buck felt himself tighten up. It really <em>wasn’t </em>his business. Eddie’s lips tightened into themselves and he sucked in a breath. He looked hurt, and now Buck felt even worse than he did before he knew what Eddie was doing. Eddie brought the free hand he had to press his pointer finger and his thumb to the bridge of his nose. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah—“ Eddie closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wanted to meet the guy another time, but this was his last night in California.” He paused before opening his eyes to continue. “It was the first time I wasn’t able to since Shannon.” Buck suddenly lost any appetite he had, and felt his face drain of color. He really had not meant to make Eddie feel bad about this. Shit, he had made Eddie feel bad about this. Eddie let out a sigh and clapped Buck’s shoulder with his free hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look, I appreciate you being there for Chris, Buck. I’ll talk to him tonight, okay?” Eddie scoots around Buck and twists open the door. He turns his head to say, “For now, I’m ready to watch some baaaaaasebaaaaall!” Eddie yells to Bobby and Chimney who cheer at Eddie’s enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Buck follows slowly behind, his thoughts wondering. <em>Eddie was fine until you mentioned Christopher. Why did you mention Christopher? </em>Buck’s venomous thoughts begin to wade as he goes through the motions. He picks up plates and cups, soda and wings, napkins and ranch. He’s sitting down on his recliner. The slowness of the TV hum and cheers from Bobby, Chim, and Eddie turn themselves into a blob of unrecognizable noise. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*IFHC will be the acronym for International Firefighting Honor Committee going forth!</p><p>Thanks for reading the second chapter. This one was a bit heavy, so I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. I wanted to include Buck’s mental health struggle before all of the ‘happy things’ because I honestly don’t think it’s talked about enough in the show. I’m not a mental health professional, but I myself deal with diagnosed anxiety, PTSD, and OCD. I wanted to show Buck’s struggle with Eddie’s accident (and many other tragic things) as I feel they would affect him. The next chapters will be a lot happier, but I do think it’s important to the story for Buck’s mental health to be addressed, given what he’s been through. Let me know if you guys enjoyed this chapter, or if it was too heavy. </p><p>Also, Chimney’s banter about Eddie was one of my favorite parts about this chapter lol.<br/>Connect with me on Tumblr at everlasting—ecstasy. (two dashes)<br/></p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! This is the first 9-1-1 story that I’m actually publishing online. I’ve toyed around with a couple other ideas, which I may end up doing… but I’m very excited for this one. I plan on making this multi-chapter. I’m so excited to write about the award ceremony in Chicago, as I am originally from Illinois. I have some amazing ideas up my sleeve, and maaaay include some 9-1-1 Lonestar feature’s in here as well. Let me know your thoughts so far on the chapter, and that idea! If you’re on tumblr, follow me at everlasting--ecstasy. &lt;3 (two dashes)</p><p>I plan on updating this pretty soon, as I'm literally at home with not much to do anyway, haha. I hope you all enjoyed this regardless, and are staying safe &lt;3</p><p>Also important to note: the award ceremony/committee I created is fiction.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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